Aria's POV
I wake up on a cold floor with my hands tied behind my back.
Panic hits me like ice water. Where am I? How did I get here?
I remember falling asleep on my couch after reading those terrifying texts. Then nothing. Just darkness. And now I'm in some kind of storage room with concrete walls and no windows.
Someone drugged me. Someone broke into my apartment and took me.
"Help!" I scream, but my voice sounds wrong—thick and fuzzy. Whatever they gave me is still in my system. "Somebody help me!"
Footsteps. Heavy boots on concrete. Getting closer.
The door opens and a man walks in. He's wearing all black and his face is covered with a mask. My heart pounds so hard I think it might explode.
"Please," I beg. "I don't have any money. I can't give you anything—"
"Shut up." His voice is rough, angry. "You're worth five billion dollars now, princess. Everything's changed."
Five billion? He knows about the Vandermeres. He knows who I am.
"The kidnapping," I whisper. "You're connected to it."
"Smart girl." He crouches down in front of me. "Twenty-three years ago, someone paid good money to make you disappear. But now you're back, and that's a problem. A very expensive problem."
"I don't want their money!" Tears stream down my face. "Let me go. I'll disappear again. I'll never contact them—"
"Too late." He stands up. "Your new family already knows where you are. Well, where you were. By the time they figure out you're here, you'll be on a plane to somewhere they'll never find you."
He's going to kill me. I can hear it in his voice. This isn't about ransom or money. This is about making sure I never claim my inheritance.
"Elena knew this would happen," he continues. "That's why she tried to warn you. But she couldn't keep her mouth shut, could she? Had to confess everything before she died. Had to ruin everything."
My blood runs cold. "Elena didn't die from cancer. You killed her."
"She was already dying. I just... sped things up." He shrugs like murder is nothing. "She was going to tell you the truth. About who really ordered the kidnapping. About why your own mother wanted you gone."
"My mother?" I can barely breathe. "What are you talking about?"
"Figure it out yourself, princess. You've got about three hours before—"
The door explodes inward.
The man in the mask spins around, reaching for a gun, but he's too slow. Someone crashes into him like a hurricane—all controlled violence and deadly precision.
They fight. Fists. Blood. The sound of bones breaking.
I press myself against the wall, trying to make myself small, invisible. The man in the mask doesn't stand a chance. His attacker moves like a trained killer, every punch calculated to cause maximum damage.
Within seconds, it's over. The masked man lies unconscious on the floor.
My rescuer turns to face me, and my heart stops.
Grey eyes. Dark hair. A face that's beautiful and terrifying at the same time. He's breathing hard, blood on his knuckles, looking at me like I'm something precious he almost lost.
"You're safe now," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "I've got you."
He moves toward me and I scramble backward. "Stay away from me!"
"Aria, it's okay—"
"How do you know my name?" My voice breaks. "Who are you?"
He freezes, something like pain flashing across his face. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone, showing me the screen. It's Mr. Pierce's number.
"I'm with your family," he says carefully. "They sent me to protect you."
"The lawyer didn't mention any protection. He said to come to the office tomorrow—"
"Plans changed." He kneels down slowly, holding up his hands to show he's not a threat. "Someone leaked your location. They moved up the timeline. I'm Damien Blackwell. I've been hired to keep you safe."
Damien Blackwell. The name sounds familiar, like I've heard it in a dream.
He reaches behind me and cuts through the ropes binding my wrists. His hands are gentle, careful not to hurt me. But I can feel him trembling slightly, like he's fighting to control himself.
"We need to go," he says. "There might be others coming."
"Wait." I pull away from him. "That man said Elena was murdered. He said my mother ordered the kidnapping. Is that true?"
Damien's jaw tightens. "This isn't the time—"
"Is it true?" I'm shouting now, hysteria rising in my chest. "Did my own mother have me stolen?"
"Yes." The word is quiet but final. "Vivienne Vandermere paid someone to take you from the hospital and make you disappear. Elena Cross was the nurse who carried you out. She was supposed to hand you to someone else, but she kept you instead. Raised you herself."
The world tilts. Everything I thought I knew is a lie.
Elena didn't just foster me out of kindness. She stole me. She was paid to kidnap me and she did it.
But she also loved me. She kept me safe for twenty-three years. She died protecting the secret.
I'm going to be sick.
"I need to get you to the compound," Damien says. He reaches for me but I slap his hand away.
"Don't touch me! I don't trust you. I don't trust any of you!"
"I understand. But right now, I'm all you've got." His grey eyes bore into mine. "You can hate me later. You can hate all of us. But first, you need to survive."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
I let him help me to my feet. My legs feel like rubber, barely holding me up. Damien wraps an arm around my waist, supporting me, and I'm too weak to fight it.
We're halfway to the door when my phone—still in my pocket somehow—buzzes with a text.
I pull it out with shaking hands.
Unknown Number: The man who just "rescued" you has been watching you for three years. Check the camera in your bedroom lamp. He installed it six months ago. He's not your protector, Aria. He's your stalker. And he knows EXACTLY what happened to Elena because he was there when she died.
The message includes a photo attachment. I click it, and my stomach drops.
It's a screenshot from a security camera. My bedroom. Me sleeping in my bed. The date stamp shows last week.
And in the corner of the image, reflected in my dresser mirror, is a figure standing in the shadows.
A man with dark hair and grey eyes.
Watching me sleep.
I look up at Damien Blackwell—this stranger who claims he's here to protect me—and see the truth written all over his face.
Guilt. Possession. Obsession.
"You've been in my apartment," I whisper. "You've been watching me."
He doesn't deny it. He doesn't even try to lie.
"Yes," he says simply. "For three years. Every single day."
"You're insane."
"Probably." He tightens his grip on me as I try to pull away. "But I'm the only thing standing between you and a dozen people who want you dead. So you're going to come with me. You're going to let me protect you. And later, when you're safe, you can decide if you want to hate me for it."
"I already hate you!"
"Good." His smile is cold, dangerous. "Hate keeps you alert. Hate keeps you alive."
He pulls me toward the door, ignoring my struggles. I'm too weak to fight him properly, too drugged to run.
As we step outside into the night, I see three black SUVs waiting. Men in tactical gear. Weapons. This isn't a rescue operation.
It's a kidnapping.
Different people. Same result.
"Let me go!" I scream, fighting harder now. "Somebody help me!"
Damien lifts me off my feet, carrying me to the nearest SUV despite my kicking and scratching. "There's no one coming, Aria. No one who'll get here in time."
"My family—"
"Your family is exactly who I'm taking you to." He puts me in the backseat and slides in beside me, blocking my exit. "Whether you want to go or not."
The door slams shut. The locks click.
And as we drive away from the warehouse, away from the man who tried to kidnap me, I realize something that makes my blood run cold:
I don't know which is worse—the strangers who want to kill me for money, or the man who's been watching me sleep for three years claiming he wants to keep me safe.
Either way, I'm trapped.
My phone buzzes one more time. Another text from the unknown number:
You wanted proof? Damien Blackwell was the last person to see Elena Cross alive. Ask him what her final words were. Ask him why he didn't save her. Then ask yourself: if he let the woman who raised you die, what will he do to you when you're no longer useful?